


A Stroll Through a Cemetery, part 3

by Buntheridon



Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Flirting, Horde War Campaign, Sister banter, Sisters, Void Elf, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, annoyed nathanos what else is new, blood elf, the domme wants to sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: A warning: I still haven't learned my lessons to wait and post stuff only after I have sketched the plot ahead somewhat. This was supposed to be an easy, silly sex series but lo and behold, some Sylthanos art has pierced my heart (looking at you,ThereAreWorseFics!) and this fic might turn a bit more serious and thoughtful after all. Which to me means hotter, of course. Porn with feels = win. I mean I knew I couldn't ignore dear Sylvanas but now she's staring me in the face. Let's see how I manage to get the permission to shag for the OC.
Relationships: Blood Elf | Elves & Void Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Nathanos Blightcaller/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Two Sides to Every Tale [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1647757
Comments: 9
Kudos: 7
Collections: (A high regard for Nathanos)





	A Stroll Through a Cemetery, part 3

_So, barely presentably clothed I hurried to the ship, except of course I slowed down when I was near the wharf, can’t go in front of my questmaster panting like a fool. He didn’t look happy but all necessary people were present and we sailed… somewhere. That eye-roll is getting old, sis. Just listen._

“Finally. You seem to have better things to do than winning this war for our Warchief”, Nathanos growls and signals to the Dread-Admiral to raise the anchor. Lilian Voss is talking to the dark rangers on the upper part of the deck and Shalaen risks a smirk.

“Excuse my tardiness, there was something urgent I needed to take care of in Silvermoon. I must have missed the first call.” She steps in front of the perpetually annoyed undead, invading his space. He stands there like a mountain, not moving even if she’s being exceptionally daring in her forward behaviour. Her Fel green eyes bore into his red flames and again she feels herself get all warm and soft for him, even when she’s summoned here literally straight from a one-hour hotel visit. “I now see it wasn’t really worth it, though.” She playfully leans on his chest for a few seconds, then steps back so the others won’t see her game. The Blightcaller grunts as he always does, sounding frustrated but also amused in a contemptuous way.

“Champion, if you are drunk on a mission as important as this, I will pull you under the keel.” His stern gaze doesn’t leave hers and she shivers. What is it about this particular man? He’s unhappy, broken, hates practically everyone and hardly says a word of praise even if you excel in a task. He’s not in his prime anymore either. Nevertheless she feels drawn to him and the intensity of it gets stronger day by day.

“No, not drunk. Just… lightheaded. So, what’s the mission?”

“We are going to retrieve a - _[This part of the conversation has been omitted by the narrator, for being irrelevant to the story and containing secret military information]_.”

They set sail. Shalaen observes the Forsaken on the ship. They have someone recently… turned with them, who is not yet quite acclimated to undeath, unable to talk clearly. Voss tries to soothe the person but Nathanos is all ‘ready your blades for if there’s a problem’. _It seems tasking, like a disease, or a fight against your mind going mad._ She wonders what the survival percentage is of all the raised undead. How do they cope? Is it at all similar to controlling the Void and the Fel, for there is madness in them as well?

  
  


****

  
  


“I don’t know why you bother censuring the location, I know you came here and there are only a few notable graveyards in Drustvar. And what are there in graves if not corpses? How about I promise to forget all those bits, at least for some days?” Loreina tosses a couple of twigs in the campfire to keep it burning.

“I didn’t say this happened on this trip. It was some time ago, I’ve got plenty to tell you.”

“I still bet it happened here. Would you like me to describe my fight against the Void whispers? It might be similar to undeath in some way.”

“I don’t think so. They seem more… permanently depressed than anxious or berserk. Or maybe permanently bitter. Anyway, where was I?”

  
  


****

  
  


In the dark woods the group travel by horseback towards their destination, finding a safe nook near a small river. The place is filled with restless spirits as is usual for any self-respecting cemetery. Nathanos barks an order.

“Ghosts are a mockery of the dead. In that form they shall never truly live again. But if they return to their bodies, they might be useful. Put them down.”

“So in a way this is an act of mercy? What an utterly delightful cocktail of violence and goodwill. Consider it done, my lord”, Shalaen chirps, knowing it will rile up the man. She dashes to complete the tasks given to her before he has time to scold her. Giggling to herself, swaying her hips when she thinks she’s still in his sight she picks flowers, examines epitaphs and murders the already fallen. The usual hero business.

Returning to their temporary camp she sees the newborn undead run away, Lilian Voss on their heels.

“What happened?”

“Some just can’t handle this dreadful existence. Never mind that, what did you find out?”

She tells him about her findings but her curiosity pushes her to intrude. “Now that we’re alone at last… I’ve been wanting to ask you about it… sir. Is it truly nothing but pain and suffering, all day all night? There must be something that gives you _pleasure.”_ She steps into his space again but not as aggressively as before, wanting to hear the answer. As fun as it is to make him annoyed she wants to let him know she’s also willing to listen and… to get to know him.

She’s as surprised of it as Nathanos would be if he had received the message.

“Keep your distance, hero. I don’t care what titles they give you, to me you’re just a grunt.”

“Now, now, I know you weren’t born to nobility, and we both served Silvermoon before it fell. If you raise such imaginary walls between us I’m going to interpret that as fear.”

 _“How dare you, you little nuisance”,_ Nathanos hisses and pushes her against the huge old tree they are hiding under. His hand is so big his fingers almost reach around her throat. Arousal shoots through her and she whines, the sudden attack very close to what she’s imagined he’d do to her. She lets her body go slack and motions to her alarmed voidwalker to stay still. The ranger looms over her, tall and broad-shouldered, and she fills her nostrils with his scent. It’s surprisingly pleasant, old leather, spicy Shadow magic, dusty tombs. Not at all like a rotting corpse, and she’s met enough those to know. Some of them walking, some dead by her hand.

“You want to know what gives me pleasure? Right now I want nothing more than to rip you to pieces for making fun of your superiors. I’m fed up with your games. But I won’t let you go that easy, I will think of something far more agonizing than a fast trip to oblivion.” That only makes the warlock see herself tied and him playing with her, and if his intention was to scare her to humility he failed completely. Nathanos watches the green eyes that stare back without fear and with darkened pupils. His brow furrows for a fraction of a second, uncertainty flashing on his pale features. _Yes, see it, you fool. I am not mocking you._ His grip loosens enough for her to speak.

“Is that… a promise, _sire?”_

He chuckles, apparently losing the edge of his rage in the mixed signals, and lets her go. “Yes. If you don’t behave, you obnoxious excuse of a-” Then he realizes she’s smiling, and gets the joke. She _wants_ punishment? He stiffens his expression but she already saw it. For a second there he was tempted.

“I’m sure I will find out something that is unpleasant for you. Now go and kill that keeper I mentioned.” He steps back and assumes his usual stony impenetrable look.

  
  


****

  
  


“By the Sunwell, you actually landed one flirt!”

“Maybe? I’m not sure he got it! It’s so hard to read that face. He looked like he couldn’t believe someone was genuinely interested in him. I don’t know if it’s tragic or melodramatic. But I can’t just go and blurt things out directly, this is a very delicate situation.”

“Oh my Light, you are _in love.”_

“Oh shush. I don’t do that. Like you didn’t know.”

  
  


****

  
  


After presenting Nathanos a key she acquired, he joins her to the narrow paths of the graveyard, marching straight to the crypt, not looking at her.

“No need to wait for the others, let’s finish this now.”

“As you command.” She hears him huff like assuming it’s sarcasm. It’s usually true in her case but now she wants to try something else. Clearly the old grouch needs tender loving care. But Shalaen does not know enough of his relationship with their Queen to use that as a starting point. His unwavering loyalty is known by everyone and it’s obvious he loves her, or used to love her when they were alive, but has the undeath killed that between them? Nowadays they are rarely seen together what with her stationed in Orgrimmar and him in Zandalar. Sylvanas might be unable to fit him in her schedule with the crushing responsibilities of the Warchief who cannot hide in the comfortable shadows like the Banshee Queen could.

The crypt door opens with a creak and a gaggle of ghosts attack them. 

“Shalaen, behind you!” Nathanos yells and she burns them with Fire and Fel, sucking their life essence to empower her next spell and using that to fell the strongest of them with the ranger shooting it with his magic arrows. _He remembers my name._ More than once her eyes are drawn to his fast movements. For a man of his size, age and existential state he’s agile as a youngster, not missing any shot, reflexes flawless.

 _Oh, he has to be wholly functional._ Muscles need blood flow and a nervous system. He doesn’t have either if he’s dead. At least not the biological ones. She knows it’s Shadow magic or some other type of spellwork that keep the undead going, but the details are unclear. Her drooling is interrupted by his angry shout.

“What is this? WHERE IS THE BODY?!” _[OK fine, it was a body. Wipe that smirk.]_

How can he be so hot when he’s furious? Her opinion isn’t shared by many, most fear him or think his temper insufferable. She joins him inside the stone walls.

”Not even dust left. Like he was never buried here in the first place.” The blood elf spots a thick dusty logbook under the rubble and hands it over to the ranger. For a moment there they both hold it, in the cramped gloomy tomb, two Shadow users joined in a mysterious quest. So romantic. Add a thunderstorm and it’s a perfect date.

“Stop dallying.” He yanks the book from her grip and leafs through it. “Surprisingly, champion, you might be right.”

The other undead return, the newbie more composed now. Nathanos talks to them and gets the missing bit of information.

”It seems we have to go fishing in the sea later. What a pointless trip this was. I am sick and tired of these repeated hindrances. Shalaen, go be useful elsewhere. I will send word when you are needed again.”

”I wouldn’t say it was pointless, my lord. Do call me whenever you wish”, she says in a perfectly neutral tone for the sake of the entourage but when they aren’t watching she shoots him a look that sends a clear message. Nathanos rolls his eyes but looks almost amused now.

She summons her Wrathsteed and gallops away. 

  
  


****

  
  


“Eeee how exciting! Will your Queen stick your head on a pike next to Onyxia’s or let the blighthounds eat you alive? A tough choice!”

“Some Alliance member you are. I assume Nathan can decide for himself what to do in his private time. I mean, I _am_ smokin’ hot, but probably not hot enough for him to lose his sanity and do something against his Warchief’s explicit will.”

“How humble of you, sister. But I suspect _private time_ is a concept unknown to the high ranking officers. Did you have to wait for long to get the booty call?”

“A few days. I think he’s playing hard to get.”

**Author's Note:**

> A warning: I still haven't learned my lessons to wait and post stuff only after I have sketched the plot ahead somewhat. This was supposed to be an easy, silly sex series but lo and behold, some Sylthanos art has pierced my heart (looking at you, _ThereAreWorseFics!_ ) and this fic might turn a bit more serious and thoughtful after all. Which to me means hotter, of course. Porn with feels = win. I mean I knew I couldn't ignore dear Sylvanas but now she's staring me in the face. Let's see how I manage to get the permission to shag for the OC.


End file.
